The Devil's Own

Part 2: James Buchanan Barnes

Present Day

"Natasha? Natasha?" A voice called to you, through the depths, the haze, the intensity of your focus. The punching bag before you was taking up all of your pent up energy and aggression of late, all of the sorrow and the anxiety and the late nights; letting it flow out of you like water from a chalice. Kick, kick, jab. Punch, elbow, elbow, roundhouse. Duck, jab, jab, kick. "Natasha?" The voice called again, making it through this time. Your concentration broken, you turned, absentmindedly wiping the sweat from the back of your neck.

Steve stood behind you, hands on hips, an unreadable look in his eyes, his tank top and loose workout shorts hiding very little of his chiseled body. You were used to it; being around insanely toned men and women your whole life. The serum had made him a spectacular human being to behold and you'd spent a lot of time covertly studying his frame, his physiology, everything about him, analyzing every movement; but he wasn't your type and it wasn't a sexual thing. He had been interesting, still was interesting, and you wanted to know all that you could about him. He looked you up and down. "You all right, Nat?"

You nodded. And then you lied. "Yeah. I'm great. Why?"

"You've been beating on that bag for half an hour and I've been trying to get your attention for a good bit." He looked at you strangely, a flash of concern behind those big, sincere eyes of his. He knew you second only to Clint, and you suspected he could tell when something was off. But he'd been so preoccupied with Bucky since his arrival at the tower, he may have not even have noticed that anything was off until now. You were quiet and calculating and, frankly, a little intense and strange anyways. You made a mental note to do better at not losing yourself in your own head.

"I'm fine. I just let my mind wander."

"Which you never do." He pointed out uneasily.

"That you know about." You shrugged, glancing up at him and plastering a playful smile on your face. You needed to sell this. Steve and you were close, and James... Bucky was his best friend. Flirty quips and avoided conversations were going to have to be your staple for a while until you could figure out how to truly lock your history with the Soldier up and throw away the key. And move on. It wasn't part of your history that you wanted out in the daylight, that you wanted to face; it was best left behind in the dark and the cold where it had started and where it had inevitably died.

"Right. That I know about." Steve shook his head and smiled back, seeming to be put at ease by your reaction. You relaxed as well, confident that he no longer believed anything to be wrong.

"Did you need something? Why were you trying to get my attention?"

"I can't find Bucky. He's not usually late but, you know how he gets sometimes. That whole losing time thing." Steve trailed off, a fog passing over his golden features and for just a minute, you saw a flash of the man you knew Captain America to truly be; it was quickly replaced by his shining outer shell, sealed up and never revealing the broken and dark man that lived beneath. Bucky was meticulous in every aspect of his life, yet he had the habit of occasionally forgetting where he was and what he was doing, and getting lost in thought. It concerned everyone, but the doctors were fairly certain it was a result of the years of memory loss and drugs, and was hopefully psychological and would get better with time. "I need to find him; we're about to start sparring. Could you go get him? He's probably just in his apartment. I need to go drag Tony down from his lab. He's trying to fix Friday but that can wait. He needs to be here."

You nodded, following Steve out into the hallway. Friday was down; that would explain why no one could locate Bucky. "Thanks Natasha." You watched the towering form of your friend and confidante retreat down the hall the opposite way in a brisk jog. You turned and made your way the other direction, down a few corridors, up an elevator, and found yourself outside of Bucky's door.